Repaying Her Blood

Chapter sixteen: Clatters in the school

Marissa

"I can't let you go, Lorna. It hurts too much."

Turning around to face Jordan, I studied his figure intently and smiled slightly as I remembered the Minnie mouse post-it note. I was still wondering how he even got into my locker.

"What did I tell you, Marissa?" Jordan narrowed his eyes at me sharply.

I shot my eyes to the floor and grumbled out, "I didn't go and see him though. There's a difference."

"Yeah, but you tried to," he remarked angrily. "Which is why I brought Madeline back. I thought she would be a much better and safer pathway."

"You know Madeline?" I questioned, feeling my eyebrows immediately frown.

"Not personally, but Lorna spoke about her a lot. She always told me about how a girl called Madeline would always avoid her in the corridors and not reply to her messages," Jordan explained to me.

I turned to Madeline. “You told me your parents hated the new school you attended."

She sheepishly smiled at me and slowly shook her head. “Well, I mean it wasn’t a lie...they did hate the school- but not enough to send me back. Jordan gave me a call, persuading me to come back.” She then looked at Jordan, giving him a dark stare. “Apparently, the netball team needed me, though they hadn’t lost a tournament the entire year.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head. “So you pestered her to come back? Why? Isaac isn't even dangerous. You know that it was all blackmail.”

"Do I though? Who knows, he may have been just saying that to save his arse," he said and then turned towards Elijah. "You ok?"

Elijah nodded and quietly exited the room with Andrew following after him.

"I'm just going to go." Madeline awkwardly smiled and made a beeline to the door.

After the door had closed, Jordan walked closer towards me and leant against the desk opposite me. He stared at me carefully, his eyes running over me.

"Stayed here to lecture me again?" I bitterly uttered, scowling at him.

Silence twirled around the room, suffocating us. It engulfed our figures in a tense and awkward atmosphere. It felt like we were back to being strangers. But it was soon broken with four delicate, fragile words that if spoken again, would no longer be precious.

"My nan's in hospital," he suddenly disclosed.

My head shot up and my eyes softened. Vulnerability was clear on his face; he was letting me see his unguarded side. The one where he could express his true emotions.
Even though I knew his nan was in hospital anyway, I couldn't help but feel shocked that he was slowly allowing me into his life. I was viewing the real him. The guy who loved Marvel and was stupid enough to climb up to my window and get whacked in the face on its opening.

The real Jordan Peters.

"She hasn't got long," he hoarsely whispered, sadly looking at his callous hands.

"Jordan..." I murmured. "I-I'm sorry."

"It is what it is," he mumbled, digging his hands into his blazer pockets and sniffling a bit.

I steadily stepped closer, directly facing him. I wrapped my arms around his waist tightly and nudged his chest with my nose. It was comfortable. It felt safe.

Hesitating for a bit, Jordan gently pulled me closer and rubbed my back soothingly. It was like he knew I was hurting too and tried to calm the silent cries that would soon be let free.